The Best Kind of Poison
by Jane Poirot
Summary: Ookami Kakushi, non-specific canon: A series of tumblr OTP prompts surrounding the relationship...of sorts...between Sakaki and Nemuru. All ratings applied.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Ookami Kakushi is property of 07th Expansion and PeachPit and, since I categorized this under Misc. Anime (though it can take place in just about any canon if you mentally adjust a few details), Studio AIC and Sentai Filmworks. I didn't mention which tumblr OTP prompt it was in the summary because it contains a profanity, which isn't allowed in the title or summary, but I can get away with mentioning it here: These are a series of prompts from the "Your Fucked Up OTP" tumblr page. No real universe connected to all of them, though you can pretend they're connected to each other in one, long story if you wish, but in that case you'd have to get picky about which ones are your "head canon" because, erm…not to spoil TOO much, but let's just say that there are some prompts with certain events that would contradict others. There will be various ratings for all of them, some a bit 'smuttier' than others (the first prompt doesn't contain any smut though). I won't use every single prompt from the page in question, just the ones that appeal to me the most (which is…a lot).

* * *

**Chapter Rating: T  
**

_Imagine your OTP getting away with murder._

The vase was bloody and broken.

That fact was plain as day. What Nemuru could not figure out was what led up to Sakaki holding a bloody vase above the body of Eiji Kasai, whose head was bloody and decorated with porcelain shards. Or what he was doing in her uncle's office.

And so she stood in the middle of the open doorway gripping the steel doorknob, wondering what to do now.

At last, Sakaki spoke:

"Shut the door."

Nemuru stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She calmly asked, "What exactly happened here?"

Sakaki placed the vase down on the desk. He rubbed the back of his sweat-drenched neck. "Is your uncle going to do something about the heat?" he muttered.

"The air conditioner broke yesterday, and he's still waiting for someone to come in and fix it," Nemuru said. She eyed Kasai's bloody head. "But you haven't answered my question."

Sakaki eyed the window. "Open the window," he said. "Then we'll talk."

Cautiously, Nemuru walked past Sakaki, eyeing him up like a hawk, and rolled the window open. A soft breeze flew in, and thought it didn't cool either of them off instantly, it did make a small difference. Now, they weren't baking in an oven; they were walking through the desert on a cool-by-desert-standards day.

"Now," Sakaki sighed, leaning against the desk, "I came here to have another talk with your uncle. We had some…business…to take care of. But who should come in, but this asshole." He shoved Kasai's head with his foot. Nemuru winced and said, "Please show some respect for the dead."

Sakaki's face twisted up and he sneered, "And you're one to talk about respecting the dead? Don't make me laugh."

"On with the story, please?" Nemuru urged, tugging at the collar of her kimono.

Sakaki's face relaxed and he sighed, "Right, right. Anyway…this guy came in and started asking me a ton of bullshit questions about who I was, how my false scent couldn't fool him, how he knew I was a stranger, blah blah blah. One thing led to another, and to make a long story short…" He gestured to Kasai. "There you go."

Nemuru looked back and forth between the nonchalant-yet-pissed-off Sakaki and the visibly dead Kasai. What to do now? Her uncle had warned her that Sakaki could be a potential threat. And he had warned her that Sakaki, despite his (forcibly) polite demeanor around her the last time they had met, knew of her involvement with Mieko's death. The only question that remained was how to handle this incident delicately.

"What do you propose we do now?" Nemuru asked.

"I didn't plan on you coming down here," Sakaki said, stroking his chin, staring at the body. "But if you're willing to help me dispose of the body, I might let bygones be bygones."

This was a lie, of course. As soon as Sakaki found the right opportunity, Nemuru would meet a fate worse than Kasai's. But for obvious reasons, he couldn't reveal that little detail just yet. Part of him considered killing her right there, but the rational part of his mind (that still remained) pointed out several people had seen Nemuru walk down the halls of the center towards her uncle's office. Therefore, if she were to come into this room and never come out, he'd have two disappearing corpses to deal with, plenty of witnesses, and a guaranteed jail conviction, if not execution.

So for now, he reasoned, it might be best to pretend to be her ally until he had the right moment.

"Can you guarantee that?" Nemuru asked, raising her eyebrows.

She was smarter than he gave her credit for.

"Sharp, aren't you?" Sakaki laughed. "So what else do you propose we do?"

Nemuru eyed Kasai with a sad sigh. "For all his faults, Kasai-san was still another person. I suppose there's nothing else for us to do but tell the police and hope for the best."

She turned to leave.

He grabbed her wrist and hissed, "You're not going anywhere."

Nemuru, while still attached, kneed him in the stomach. He let go, and she pinned him down to the desk.

"C'mon, you don't think you can keep me here like this forever, do you?" Sakaki sneered. He struggled against her grip, which was tighter than his.

"No," Nemuru said. "Just until uncle comes back. His coffee break doesn't last more than ten minutes."

"Fifteen."

"Sometimes fifteen, other—" She stopped. She and Sakaki both whipped in the direction of the voice. Kasai was slowly standing up with a smirk.

"Fifteen, if the coffee machine's not working," Kasai said, running a hand through his bloody head. "Today's one of those days."

Sakaki and Nemuru gaped at the sight. Kasai, who had clearly not been moving just a minute ago, was now standing before them as though his wound was but a scratch.

"Oh, this?" Kasai pointed to the bloody side. "Nothing a few stitches can't fix. But no matter." He rolled up his sleeves. "Hand over the disgusting Ochibito. He's a dangerous man, and can't be allowed to go free any longer. Didn't he just try to kill you?"

"I'll hand him over only to the police, and no one else," Nemuru said firmly, keeping her grip on Sakaki tight. "Justice to him will be served in due course."

"Rest assured, I'll turn him over myself," Kasai said, like a teacher talking towards a student whom they believed to be stupid. "I can handle him."

Nemuru looked back and forth between the grumbling Sakaki on the desk, and the smug, bloody Kasai. On the one hand, Sakaki had already shown the potential to be a dangerous man, and getting him locked up, at least for tonight, had to be first priority. But on the other hand, she was also aware, from the many town meetings she had attended in her father's place, of Kasai's extremist, anti-Ochibito position. Could she trust him with an Ochibito prisoner?

"We can take him together," Nemuru offered. She loosened her grip on Sakaki and pulled him up. "Or perhaps you can seek medical attention for your injuries first, then we'll take him. How does that sound?"

Kasai walked up to the pair. He said, "Let me reconsider your offer…but also let me ask you this: Do you know this man's true reason for coming here, Nemuru-'sama'?"

Nemuru ignored this brief display of contempt. "I know about his fiancée, if that's what you mean," she said. She shared a quick glance with Sakaki before looking back over at Kasai. "I'm also aware that my life is in danger with his presence. Which is why I intend to have him escorted to the nearest jail as quickly as possible. Therefore—"

"And are you also aware," Kasai went on, "that as of tonight, your position from power has officially been stripped?" He and Sakaki shared a smirk.

The pieces fell together, and Nemuru gasped, "That can't be…!"

"That's right," Sakaki spoke up. "I had worked out a deal with Kasai-san to lure you into a death trap. We were going to work out the finer details while your uncle went to get us some coffee from the _conveniently_ broken coffee machine, until _someone_ got a little _greedy."_

Kasai rose an eyebrow. "I'd hesitate to use the word 'blackmail'," he said. "Only, perhaps, 'seizing an opportunity'. You didn't actually think I'd willingly work together with a disgusting piece of filth like_ you,_ do you? I am a Kamibito. You are just a lowly _Ochibito._ It's because of scum like you that my people are suffering," he spat. "Why should I pay you any respect?"

"You're one to talk?" Sakaki scoffed. "You're just a disgusting sniffler, no better than a dog."

Kasai clenched his fists. "You-!"

"That's enough!" Nemuru tried to step in between, but it was too late. Kasai swung at Sakaki's head. Sakaki ducked and flipped Kasai onto the floor, cracking his leg upon impact. Seething, Kasai stood to his feet…pulled out a pocketknife…headed towards Sakaki…and…

"Don't!"

Acting on her feet, Nemuru shoved Kasai out of the way…

…and out the open window, where he fell with a scream and a loud _thud_.

Sakaki and Nemuru stared out the window, into the open night. Then, Nemuru turned for the door.

Once again, Sakaki grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I need to check if he's alive!" Nemuru insisted, wrestling out of his grasp. "There might still be time! We just need to get him wheeled in and—"

"Oh, _shut up,"_ Sakaki snapped, throwing his hands down with an exasperated sigh. "You've killed so many people before, what's one more life to you now?"

Nemuru spun towards him. Nothing could've prepared Sakaki for the stunned, tear-filled look in her eyes. He had expected some kind of defiance, not…this.

"I'd rather not spill any more needless blood if I can help it," Nemuru said softly. "If I have to, for the sake of my town, I will. But not if it can be avoided…this could've gone differently. I could've grabbed him before he fell out."

Sakaki wasn't sure what to make of this regret. Wasn't this the 'monster' he was fighting? The 'monster' who stole everything precious from him? And if she regretted this…then did she regret what happened to…?

No. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let her make him weak. He had to stay focused.

But before either of them could say or do anything else, the door opened. "Sorry I'm late," Shigetsugu apologized, holding a steaming cup of bitter, roasted coffee. "Someone smashed up the coffee machine with a hammer and we had to—Nemuru?" he said, surprised. "What are you doing here?" He glanced at the bloody vase. "What happened?"

Sakaki and Nemuru exchanged a glance. "Sit down, uncle. We're going to be here for some time…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Rating: M**

_Imagine Person A catches Person B masturbating and B is oblivious that they have an audience. _

It started out simple, as all Sakaki-related incidents did.

Shigetsugu had given Nemuru an envelope to drop off to Sakaki—"he came by earlier and said he needed this section of the report as soon as possible, could you please give this to him the next time you see him?"—and after some inquiries, Nemuru had learned where Sakaki lived. The apartment complex wasn't as nice as the one Hiroshi and Isuzu lived in, but it was still liveable.

As Nemuru climbed up the stairs, gripping the envelope under her arm, a cold draft flew across her neck. Was it a sign? An ill omen of what was to come?

Nemuru shook the silly thought out of her head. She needed to stop listening to Kaname's ghost stories.

* * *

Sakaki slid under the futon with a sigh. As usual, the apartment was cold. And as usual, he was alone. So what reason did he have to get up and make himself a cup of coffee? He closed his eyes and thought back to the last time he and Mieko had shared a morning cup of coffee, four years ago.

They had been engaged for a month. The heater had gone out again, and a blizzard was coming on, leaving the two trapped in…was it his or Mieko's apartment they had stayed in? No matter. They went to the kitchen/living room to get some hot, black coffee and took it back to bed with them. The night before, it had been too cold to even make love, so they just slept side-by-side in fleece pyjamas, leaving a simmering sexual tension in the air when they got back.

What had they talked about while sipping coffee in bed? He couldn't quite remember—something about the wedding, something about graduating next year…it was all a blur. It was getting to the point where he could barely remember everything they had talked about. And he hated himself for that.

But now, he began to remember what else had happened: Halfway through, they put their cups on the nightstands and began to kiss, seeing if it was possible to taste coffee on each other's lips. Whose suggestion had it been? His or hers? Whoever's suggestion it was, it began to escalate. The deeper they drew the kiss, the further up his hands had begun to slide…one down the front of her pyjama top, cupping her breast...the other slowly unbuttoning it until, at last, she was revealed in her topless glory…

Oh.

Damn. He was aroused. Now what?

He wondered whether or not to wait for it to go away. Or should he…_do something_ about it?

Sakaki looked over both shoulders. No one was here but him. The door was closed. He wasn't facing any windows.

_…What the hell?_

* * *

"412, or 422?" Nemuru muttered as she walked down the dimly-lit hallway, past the dull yellow wallpaper. She rubbed her hands together, wishing she had remembered to bring mittens. She hoped she was in the right direction, or else she'd have to stay in this building one second longer. But it wasn't just because her knees were knocking together, or because the air was seeping underneath her clothes and chilling her bones. No, it was because with each second she spent in this building, the stronger her feeling of dread grew.

It was ridiculous, it was irrational, but it remained nonetheless. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she had to deliver an envelope to a particularly unpleasant person. But the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could leave. And it wasn't as though she'd have to go in and have a cup of tea with him—all she had to do was just say "My uncle wanted me to give you this", place the envelope in his hands, thank him for his time, and then leave.

Nemuru let out a tense breath. She was in front of Room 422. Was this the room? She lifted up a fist to rap on the door—

What was that dull creak? Where had it come from? If Kaname were here, she'd claim it was the ghost that haunted this building. But no, there had to be a more rational explanation.

Was that….panting? And…grunting?

Wait…was it coming from behind the door?

Nemuru gripped the cold, brass knob, but did not turn it. She pressed an ear to the door. The voiceless panting grew louder, then softer. Was that…?

She turned the knob as silently as she could and opened the door by a few inches. She peered inside. The person inside was indeed Sakaki. He was lying on his back, his hair messy, his eyes…closed? She couldn't tell from this distance, but they appeared to be.

Nemuru opened the door by another inch. He was shifting in the futon, his hand down the quilt. What was he…?

Sakaki slid further up, eyes still closed, (apparently) oblivious of Nemuru's presence. And as he slid up further, and the quilt fell to his knees, Nemuru realized his bottoms were—

Immediately, Nemuru closed the door, her cheeks hot. That was…unexpected. Not to mention so…so…

Nemuru's mind blanked as she struggled to wonder what to do now. Should she leave and come back another time? She did have his address, but what if this was urgent? Should she burst in and interrupt or would that be rude? Should she just wait, should she stay, should she go, should…

"This is ridiculous," Nemuru said with a huff. "I came here to give him this envelope, and that's precisely what I'm going to do."

She gripped the knob once more, but couldn't turn it. It wasn't stuck, she just couldn't turn it. Could she ever look Sakaki in the eye ever again if he knew she had seen him…do that?

But it's not like she'd have to see him on a regular basis…

But her uncle did, and what if he ended up coming to the town meetings? But why would he?

Even if he didn't, wouldn't this be rather rude? Wouldn't it be like interrupting someone in the middle of a good book?

She let go of the knob and sighed. For now, until she thought of a better plan, she would just stand outside and wait until he was finished. This probably wouldn't take too long.

But even then…

Nemuru leaned against the door and closed her eyes, trying to block out the sounds of him…doing what he was doing. But it wasn't easy, for his panting and grunting grew louder, and, if the creaking of the wood was any indication, he was rolling around in the futon. What inspired him to do this to begin with? Was he really that lonely and desperate? Did he long for someone to love, someone to hold?

Or was he just bored?

In any event, it didn't sound like he was in pain. No, if anything, the gasps and moans emerging from the other side indicated he was enjoying it. Nemuru had never masturbated in her life because she considered it improper for a young lady, but she could still see the potential appeal in it, at least for the sexually frustrated Kamibito who wanted to consummate their love with another Ochibito but had to wait. And was Sakaki frustrated?

Perhaps, she reasoned. Once, he might have been a passionate lover who held his lady in his arms like a doll, tracing kisses down her neck, himself shirtless, exposing his muscles, chest, and torso to the wind as he nibbled on his lady's neck and pressed his bare chest against hers—

"Mie—ko-!"

His sharp gasp penetrated the air at the same time Nemuru gasped, imagining—

Wait.

Did she imagine _herself_ in there?

Nemuru's cheeks were on fire. She scolded herself for allowing her imagination to get carried away, for being a foolish, silly schoolgirl. This was not how the head of the Kushinada household should behave! She was supposed to carry herself with dignity, not with lustful folly and—

Was it over?

Nemuru waited for a few seconds, but heard nothing. Had he finished? Dare she look?

No, she'd better knock, just in case.

Nemuru lightly rapped on the door. "Excuse me?" she said, lowering her voice.

"J, just a minute!" Sakaki called out, his voice lacking the smoothness from their previous meetings.

Nemuru smoothed out her jacket and took a few, deep breathes, hoping he couldn't tell she had been on the other side of the door, or what had gone through her mind. The envelope was pinned under her right arm. Funny how she had almost forgotten about it while waiting.

The door opened, and she jumped back. Sakaki was wearing a bathrobe, the belt tightly knotted, over his pyjamas. His hair was still a mess and his face was flushed. In his hands, he held a washcloth. Nemuru could guess what it had just been used to clean up, but she didn't say it out loud.

"Ah," Sakaki said. "Kushinada."

"Sakaki-san," Nemuru said with a nod. "Ah…"

What was it she came for? She was going to drop off something, what…?

"Is that for me?" Sakaki pointed to the envelope under her arm.

"Y, yes," Nemuru cleared her throat and repeated in a more dignified tone, "Yes. This is the report my uncle said you needed."

Her hands shook as she grasped the envelope and handed it towards him. She willed herself not to turn away as he took the envelope from her hands.

"I must get going now," Nemuru said. She bowed. "Have a good day."

Sakaki did not reply. He waited for Nemuru to close the door before he walked over to the kitchen and place the envelope on the counter. Although she had tried to hide it with her posture, her cheeks were flushed scarlet and she barely looked him in the eye.

Had she seen…or overheard…?

Sakaki sighed and opened the envelope. He had bigger things to worry about.


End file.
